


Just Friends

by rosalynbair



Category: girls - Fandom, hbo girls
Genre: Angst, Breakups, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Mentions of Sex, Sexual Themes, commitment issues, friends to strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-26
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-16 09:04:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15433617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosalynbair/pseuds/rosalynbair
Summary: Adam Sackler has been torn apart in every way when it comes to relationships. It’s not surprising that he’s hesitant to fully commit himself and move past the friends with benefits stage with you. It’s only until after a break from you that he realizes how much he needs you in his life. But by that point, things are past fixing.





	Just Friends

"Adam?" You ask quietly, laying on the bed, facing upwards towards the water stained ceiling.

"Hmn?" The man beside you hums in question, turning his head to face you. The dark and damp mop that sat on his head splayed out on the pillow you shared.

You turn your on head, catching his surprisingly gentle gaze with your own. A small sigh escapes your lips, fanning across his warm face.

"Kid?" He asks, brows beginning to furrow as you move up to rest your cheek on your palm.

"You know what i'm going to say." You tell him, gearing up to have the same conversation that you've had every day for the past six months.

"Kid. We're not talking about this again." Adam groans, rubbing at his eyes, dragging his fingers down his face and pulling down at his skin slightly while rolling his eyes back until he drops ones hand and throws the other up so his forearm was resting over his forehead.

"Why not?" You ask, looking down at his frustrated expression.

"It's the same fucking answer every single time." He snaps, opening his eyes to look at you as you begin to sit up from the bed, the sheet falling from your naked form to pool at your hips in a blue wave.

"Okay." You mutter, sliding from the bed and turning away from him.

You take inventory of the floor, finding your clothes quickly. You could feel Adam's eyes on you as you tugged on the clothes you had discarded in earnest when he had pulled you into his apartment for the third time this week.

"You're leaving?" He asks, noticing how you hid the hickies he had strategically placed on your shoulders with a denim jacket.

"No fucking shit." You snap, sliding your feet into the shoes that were by the door of his bedroom.

"What the fuck." Adam snaps, sitting up and stumbling out of the bed. "Why do you always fucking do this?"

"Because it's the same every single fucking time!" You tell him, looking around and trying to find your phone and purse that had both been tossed somewhere.

"Well maybe you should fucking learn that this isn't going to change!" He says, glaring as he tugs on the boxers hanging from the lamp beside his bed.

"Maybe I keep hoping that you'll change your mind." You respond easily, grabbing your purse off the couch, eyes grazing the surfaces for your phone.

"Why do you want this to change so much?" He asks with a glare, following you into his kitchen with your phone in hand, your blood boils when you see the long scratch along the screen.

You take the phone from him, shoving it into your pocket. "Because Adam! Every day you tell me how much you like and adore me. How i'm so much better than anyone you've ever fucking dated. But all you do is keep me around to warm your bed when you want it."

Walking to the door, feet stomping loud enough that the neighbor below you banged on the ceiling in anger. You open the door, ready to leave.

"We all know you're going to fucking come back by the end of the week." Adam says, following your trail and grabbing onto the door when you open it, stepping into the hallway.

"Fuck you." You hiss, not looking at him as you move down the hall to the stairs.

"We all know you can't live without my cock!" He yells from his apartment.

The door slams as you hit the stairs, the sound echoing throughout the empty hall. It's barely seconds before the sound of banging and loud cursing starts to come from Adam's apartment. 

The cool air of the late summer assaults your skin, blowing your hair around your face as you turned to face it. You walk against the wind, holding your jacket together.

Even from outside, you could hear Adam and his temper tantrum through his partially opened window.

~

The weather had dropped throughout the course of the weeks that followed, autumn fast approaching on the city. Barely November and there were already risks of slight snowfall in the northern parts of the state.

It had been a month since you had actually spoken to Adam Sackler. The first week had been radio silence from him, the second week started the texts once a day.

They had started out as simple ones such as "where are you?" or "what are you doing?" at strange times of the day. Adam didn't like texting at the best of times, so him trying to communicate with you by text was somewhat of a mess. His fingers were too large for his outdated Iphone's cracked and bleeding screen. Almost everything he typed had a typo or a space where there shouldn’t be a space.

The second week had consisted of two texts a day, the same ones as the first week followed by "are you really ignoring me?" or "we need to talk." and “I can see that you’re reading these.”. But still you read over his texts and turned your read receipts off so he could no longer hound you on actually ignoring him.

The third week held phone calls and Adam stumbling over his words as he tried to leave you voicemails. They often held his frustrated stuttering and swear words you didn't even know he had in his vocabulary. You’re favorite one so far is “I know your mailbox can only hold three messages. You complain about it all the time. I know you’re hearing these because I’ve left far more than three. Call me back.”

The fourth week was annoyed silence. You hadn't replied or spoken to him in the entire time he had been trying to get a hold of you. But somehow, even with your phone in your pocket, you could feel Adam glaring at your contact in his phone. You could feel his frustration with you.

You did not need his dick. You did not need his dick to survive. You had never been dependant on him, had never really needed his companionship.

There was no denying that Adam and you had some form of relationship. There was exclusivity between the two of you when you shared a bed together. But Adam had always declared that there was truly nothing between the two of you. That everything you felt for each other was sexual.

~

Another week, and you were turning down onto Broadway to head home with a thick cardigan buttoned up over your work outfit. The boots you wore tapped loudly against the concrete, your cold hands pressed into the pockets of your cardigan.

Your head was tilted down, trying to avoid the sting of the brisk wind on your cheeks. You should have worn a scarf, you know that. But some part of you was still hoping for it to be warm when you left your office when the day was over.

But here you were, regretting the decision to not put on a scarf or tug on a jacket that hung beside your door.

“Hey!” An all too familiar voice yells from behind you.

You don’t bother turning around, didn’t want to bother having the conversation that he wanted to have. You pause at the green light for a moment to let the car beside you turn to the next street.

Right when your foot stepped onto the road, the presence beside you took over your thoughts as you walked across the street, your head still tilted downwards.   
“You look cold.” He says, his own hands in the pockets of his jacket.

Once again, you don’t respond. Continuing on your way to your apartment - a different one now since your lease was up three weeks ago. Brooklyn was expensive as hell, but you were lucky enough to move in with a close friend who needed a roommate and help to pay rent.

“Why are you avoiding me?” Adam asks with an annoyed huff, turning the corner with you.

“Not avoiding. Just ignoring.” You mutter, basking in the small relief from the wind on the new street.

“But why?” He asks, turning his body towards you as you walk, his brows furrowed as he watches you.   
You look over to him for the first time, annoyance evident on your face. “Are you fucking kidding me Adam?” You snap at him. “Why am I ignoring you?”  
“I’m not fucking stupid.” He responds. “I know why you’re ignoring me. I just don’t understand why you’re ignoring me for that reason.”  
“Because I was tired.” You tell him. “I can’t be in a relationship that’s one sided and has a fight every single day.”

“We only ever fought because you kept bringing the same thing up.” He grumbles, looking away from you to the passing traffic.

“Because I was hoping you’d get your head out of your ass.” You mutter, looking back down to your feet. You turn the corner again, Adam close beside you.

“Where are you going?” He asks, looking around at the area that you didn’t often frequent.

“Home.” You respond, not bothering to even look at him anymore. You weren’t quite sure if you wanted to punch him or kiss him.

“You live in Hoboken. You need to take the bus?” He says, his statement coming out more like a question.

“I moved.” You say simply, pulling your small keychain out of your pocket, turning and going up the few steps of a typical Brooklyn Heights apartment building.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Adam asks, his heart beating quickly with a sense of anxiety that he didn’t understand.

“It’s not like we’re dating.” You mutter, opening the door and stepping into the small foyer. “Bye Adam.”

The door shuts in front of him, his frame still as he watches you retreat into the comfortable heat of your building. He watches until you’ve reached the elevator, noticing that you didn’t turn around at all to look at him.

The elevator doors cut you from his view. Adam’s shoulders drop and he turns around, retracing his steps back to Broadway where he was on a break from rehearsals.

~

“I got the main role in that play I told you about.”

“My costar isn’t a good kisser. I’d rather be kissing you.”

“Opening night is next week. I put your name on the list in case you wanted to come.”

“Opening night went well, I messed up one of my lines at the end though.”

“I’m getting tired of this fucking play.”

“I miss you.”

“Closing night is tonight. I’m glad this is over.”

“It’s been four months.”  
“Hannah messages me last night.”

Each text was sporadic, sent at different times of the day with different variations of typos and misspellings.

You could never bring yourself to respond to them, couldn’t tell him that you wanted to kiss him too. Or that you would definitely be at his opening night for the show he had been so excited about. You couldn’t tell him how much you missed him or how you thought about him more than you’d like to admit.

And you definitely could not tell him how horrible of a decision it was to meet up with Hannah again for just drinks as just friends.

Winter had been brutal in New York, though you began so see Adam Sackler’s face everywhere on your walk to work. Playbills, posters for upcoming shows, interviews in the fucking paper. His stupid face was everywhere you looked to get away from him.

You almost gave in a few times, seeing him walking into a theatre for rehearsal on your lunch break or when he was walking to the bus stop to head home. You almost ran to him to confess that you were in fact in love with him and didn’t want to spend anymore time apart. You’d be willing to have it as exclusive friends with benefits.

But the opportunities always passed you by. He walked to quickly or your fear of rejection got in the way. Each time you thought you had the courage to show up at his building and knock on his door or when you had a text drafted up to send or when his number was dialed, you always backed off. You left the premises of his home or you deleted the words on the screen and exited out of his contact or you hung up the call before he could even get it.

~

When spring was blooming throughout the city, flowers greeting the sun with their vibrant petals opened and the leaves reappearing on the trees, the weather slowly warming up with the dark clouds of rain and the gentle beams of the sun. You hadn’t heard from Adam in over a month, radio silence between the two of you.

Anything that had been shared between the two of you was over, it had been severed by your stubbornness, by your need to be loved and adored with a title more than friends.

You hadn’t seen him in person since his last production of some risque show that had mixed reviews.

It wasn’t surprising that you almost didn’t recognize him when you stood in the cafe down the street from the office you worked at. You didn’t recognize the long and soft hair that brushed his shoulders. Or the build that had gained muscle and overall mass that was almost bursting his old shirt at the seams.

You recognized the girl beside him though, the girl who had been his co-star’s understudy during one of his shows, the girl that held his hand and rested her head against his bicep with her other hand curled around his forearm.

“What do you want?” Adam asks her, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it.

“Orange Pekoe.” She replies with an equally in-love tone.

You look down, holding your wallet in your hands, fingers playing with the zipper to try to distract yourself from the couple in front of you.

You hear him order his usual coffee and the tea for her, waiting for them to step aside and the barista to call you forward to order your drink.

“Medium mocha.” You say quietly “But with white hot chocolate instead of the regular please.”

You step back, leaning against the barricade wall that separated the lineup from the tables.

“Hey.” Adam says, his eyes finding your figure behind him when he turned around.

“Oh, hey.” You respond quietly, barely able to hold his gaze.

There’s no conversation, there’s no introductions or goodbyes. There was no lingering gazes or soft smiles of once-lovers. There was just the acknowledgement of existence and nothing more.

You had given up Adam in fear of never being anything more than friends, the fear of being just friends. But now, you weren’t even that.


End file.
